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墨書 Inktalez
The thunder roars at the gorge, Azure Wind, after years of excavation! Flowing through the ancient and modern Qin and Han moons, I ask if the Hidden Dragon has ever felt cold?
The Min River flows from afar, its divine power breaking through the ancient barriers. The vast waves connect to the Three Chus, bestowing grace that nourishes the Nine Valleys. Before Chopping Axe Rock, waterfalls rain down, and light thunder echoes from the bottom of the Hidden Dragon Pool. Building dikes, one does not dare to refuse toil; bamboo and stone are managed with care.
Dujiangyan waters nourish Xichuan, as people gather at the riverbank during the opening season. Joyfully watching as rafts frequently depart, the sound of laughter resonates as they plow the fields.
A gentle stream separates us, while two mountains stand apart. The stream flows with red leaves, and white clouds rise from the empty pool. A bridge stretches across the void, as evening trees float in twilight. Where is the Dragon Lady now? I ask the willow by the cliff.
Bai Tang admires the literary cultivation of ancient people; four poems express her shock upon witnessing Dujiangyan for the first time. She admires their wisdom and diligence even more, as they managed to construct such a grand irrigation project under conditions of low productivity thousands of years ago, transforming a flood-prone wasteland into a nurturing mother river for fertile fields.
Walking all the way to Erlang Zhenjun Temple, the incense inside is very prosperous, bustling with mortals coming and going. Yang Jian and Howling Dog are not in the temple, nor are the Meishan Brothers. Inside, only a few ghost judges are organizing offerings: Li Hu's three sacrifices, Zhang Long's blessings, Zhao Jia's request for a child, and Qian Bing's good wishes for recovery...
Bai Tang easily sneaks into the temple without needing a concealment charm. The back courtyard of the temple is where Yang Jian resides; it looks unremarkable from outside. Once inside, however, one can see another world: a spacious courtyard with mountains and water, filled with various exotic flowers and plants—all grown by Aoxinchin to pass time. Unfortunately, many have withered since their mistress is no longer present. Yang Jian's courtyard is built halfway up a mountain, a simple brick-and-tile house that lacks the grandeur of palace architecture. Entering the house reveals similar simplicity; a thin layer of dust covers the table and cabinets, indicating no one has lived here for quite some time. Bai Tang takes out the Lotus Lantern and places it prominently on the table so that anyone entering will see it at a glance. As for when Yang Jian will discover it—heh heh!
Exiting Zhenjun Temple, Bai Tang strolls along with the flow of water. The river at Guankou is the Min River. The water rushes down powerfully, with a large log floating in it that is about as thick as a person's embrace—timber cut upstream. Due to inconvenient mountain roads for transportation, locals push downed trees into the Min River, using its current to carry them downstream to shallow areas for retrieval—saving both time and effort.
After walking for a while, she sees a bamboo suspension bridge over the river. The bridge is supported by wooden rafts and stone piers. Thick bamboo cables stretch across the river with wooden planks laid on top as a walkway, flanked by bamboo ropes as railings; walking on it feels unsteady and makes one anxious. Locals are accustomed to crossing this bamboo bridge swiftly. However, Bai Tang does not feel as composed; despite her strong abilities, she lacks confidence in this swaying bridge that seems ready to snap at any moment.
"Let's go back to shore!" Karen suggests when he can't bear to watch any longer. How could someone who moves freely in space fear a bamboo bridge? Even if it breaks or collapses, one could use lightness skills to return to shore!
"Oh!" Bai Tang obediently follows Karen back to shore.
At the bridgehead are several food stalls; Bai Tang sits at one of them and orders two bowls of fragrant tofu pudding and a plate of fried spring rolls. The fragrance in the tofu pudding comes from osmanthus flowers that have been preserved in honey and sprinkled over soft tofu—both fragrant and delicious! After finishing one bowl, Bai Tang orders another. The bamboo bridge is the only connection between both banks; many pedestrians cross it frequently. After walking for a while, everyone rests at the bridgehead to drink tea or eat something while chatting. Local folks discuss daily life and significant events happening nearby while merchants exchange information from various places and share stories about local sights and folklore with those who have never visited Guankou. At a table on her left side, stories are being told; she thought they would be discussing Erlang Shen, but instead they speak of another deity she knows well—who turns out to be an old acquaintance of Yang Jian!
"The immortal I speak of is one of the Eight Immortals. It is said that before becoming one of the Eight Immortals, this immortal was a great mouse since the beginning of time. For some unknown reason, this mouse was unlike others; since its birth, it never damaged anyone's belongings and diligently practiced its skills. Although it was an animal, it had attained immortality. After four or five thousand years, during the reign of the Three Sovereigns, there was a great flood in that area, drowning countless people and livestock. This mouse floated from the Central Plains to our Guankou. Having cultivated for a long time, its spiritual body was solid, and despite being swept away by the massive waves for three or four thousand miles, it managed to survive."
Bai Tang perked up her ears to listen to the story. The storyteller was an old man with a white beard, nearing sixty years of age. He was the head of a local academy and would stop at a stall by the bridge every morning for breakfast on his way to work, sharing local tales of Guankou with visiting merchants. The Old Confucian Scholar was born and raised in Guankou and was very familiar with its folklore; he had even compiled many stories into a collection of Guankou myths.
"Guankou was originally a low-lying inland area. Since that flood, it has become a vast expanse of water. When the flood first arrived, there was a village with over two thousand inhabitants who fled to higher ground with their elderly and children. They came across a place where both sides rose high, with a river three zhang wide in between. Normally deep with water, it was impossible to cross at this time. There was a single-log bridge that had been soaked by the flood and had begun to rot. As the group crossed halfway, the bridge broke in two, and many who were scrambling to get on fell into the water and disappeared without a trace. At that moment, as the water surged higher, those on the shore were at their wits' end and began to cry out in despair."
A child asked, "Grandpa Zhuang, is your village the same as our village now?"
The Old Confucian Scholar patted the child's head: "Yes, our entire village was saved by an immortal."
A young merchant exclaimed loudly, "What happened next? Please tell us quickly!"
"Alright, I will continue," said the Old Confucian Scholar as he took a sip of soy milk and continued his tale. "That mouse happened to be among the crowd, hoping to escape with everyone else. Seeing the bridge break and people in despair, it felt deeply for them and forgot its own danger, only thinking about how to save so many lives. After pondering for a while, it came up with an idea. It climbed onto the broken bridge and walked toward the broken section; although not completely severed, it was submerged in water and impassable for humans. The mouse was strong and observed carefully before swimming vigorously; within a few steps, it reached the other side of the broken bridge and climbed ashore. Once on land, it turned back and squeaked at the crowd as if to comfort them not to lose hope; it would find a way to save them all. Although they did not understand mouse language, seeing its determined gaze seemed to convey its intention to help them, lifting everyone's spirits as they stopped crying on the shore and began discussing how to cross the river."
"After crossing the river, the mouse somehow found a long tree trunk which it dragged into the water using its teeth along with the broken bridge. The crowd cheered in gratitude as they saw it truly come to their aid. However, just one log would not suffice. The mouse nodded at everyone and swam back across again to retrieve another tree trunk of similar length. By now everyone understood its intentions; they worked together to tie both logs securely to what remained of the bridge supports. The mouse then used its divine powers on that side of the bank to drill two large holes with its mouth and inserted both ends of the logs into them, thus forming a bridge made of two logs. One by one, they helped each other across this makeshift bridge until several hours later when they finally finished crossing. Just then, another surge from upstream hit them with several large waves that swept the mouse into the water; in an instant, it drifted hundreds of miles away until it struggled for breath amidst those turbulent waters. Being an animal after all, after enduring such exhaustion and having spent all its strength, it could no longer hold on; its eyes rolled back as a giant wave crashed down on it and plunged it deep underwater—the mouse seemed to lose consciousness as if dead..."
The crowd expressed their sorrow for the mouse in the story.
The young merchant sighed: "I never expected such righteousness from a mouse; what a pity! It can't be dead, can it?"
Bai Tang joined in discussing: "Isn't this mouse one of the immortals from among the Eight Immortals? Even if it died, wouldn't that be good? With its abilities, it could be reborn as a human and then cultivate into an immortal itself. This is what we call good deeds being rewarded!"
The Old Confucian Scholar chuckled: "This young lady has guessed wrong; that mouse has another extraordinary fate—it did not die."
"Oh? What kind of strange fate is this? Elder, please tell us!" Bai Tang became more interested in the continuation of the story, and others also urged the Old Confucian Scholar to share what happened next.
"I don't know how much time passed, but the mouse finally woke up and found itself lying on a large rock, with an Old Immortal standing beside it. The mouse realized that it had been saved by a deity and quickly knelt down to bow to the Old Immortal. The Old Immortal said to the mouse, 'Although you are a different kind, you possess good roots and have cultivated such great merit. I cannot bear to let you be lost in Jiangzhong, so I brought you up the mountain. Although you have cultivated for thousands of years, you have yet to achieve your true form and have not even attained a human body. This is due to your low birth and lack of fate with True Immortals. You may stay in my Cave as a Guardian Mouse, and when the time comes, I will guide you to your opportunity, allowing you to ultimately attain the Avenue!'
"The mouse, having turned misfortune into fortune by entering the immortal's tutelage, was overjoyed and repeatedly bowed its head to the Old Immortal." (To be continued)
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